


Concerning Dwarves

by TiredWritersWorld



Category: Dragon Age: Origins, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-19 09:58:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16532348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiredWritersWorld/pseuds/TiredWritersWorld
Summary: The Lady Aeducan has heard the tales of the lonely mountain and decides to offer her assistance and that of her merry band of rag tag warriors to Thorin's company. Eventual Thorin/Lady Aeducan romance.





	1. The Iron Hills

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post on AO3! I'm very excited and hope that you'll leave feedback. Enjoy guys!

The grand hall of the Iron Hills echoed with the cries and argument of the Ironfoot dwarves. There had been a great feast that night to welcome the dwarves from the east and the food had been ate, the ale drunk and the songs of old sung. 

Talk now turned to more delicate subjects. That of the dwarves from the east’s exile and it had ruffled more than a few feathers and readied more than a few weapons. 

“And are we to trust the word of she who killed her own kin?” Lord Dain of the Iron Hills roared. The she in question sighed tiredly at his words. She tilted her head to her advisor, a tall and strong dwarf clad in leather armour with long and dark plaited hair, a long plait beard and green eyes that spoke of the danger lurking within. His name was Gorlin, a smith by trade these days but in the mountain they once called home he was of the warrior caste, protector and advisor to the Princess and also her very best friend. 

Gorlin’s blood rose to his face in his ire and he made to stand but she gripped his arm and pulled him back to his seat. 

After a moment to collect herself the Princess rose and unsheathed her blades, laying them upon the table. The hall fell silent but for the tankards clanging noisily as the dwarves drank. All eyes fell upon the swords. They weren’t very long, but sharp and glowed a deep red with the runes Gorlin had carved into them, a magic powerful and unyielding to it’s foes. The dwarves were the only race able to wield such power and control with magic and yet unable to cast themselves. She realised of course that it was an insult to withdraw her weapons in such a place but she had a point to make.

“Lords and Ladies of the Iron Hills...” She called looking out over the hall and meeting their gaze. “These weapons you see before you have seen many a battle and taken many lives in their short years. They were forged in the fires beneath the earth, in the stone that I once called my home, at a time when I was ignorant of the politics of our people. I cared not for the rule of the mountain.” She swallowed deeply running her fingers across the hilt of one of her blades and took a deep breath before continuing. “I was naive and cared only to prove the weapons I wielded to be true. And I did just that.” Lifting one of the blades she held it up, running a hand down it’s curved surface. “It was my naivety that allowed my brother and heir to the throne to be killed. But these blades that you see before you did not know his blood. I lament the loss of Trian more than any of you here today, but I did not kill him.” She finished and sheathed her weapons once again. As she sat unable to meet their gazes Gorlin rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Then who was it!” They heard a voice call from the back of the hall and the dwarves erupted in calls of agreement and question.  
“Bhelen killed Prince Trian!” Gorlin suddenly roared standing from his seat, jolting the table forward as he did so. Shouts of disapproval and disbelief sounded out. 

“It’s true! I saw it with my own eyes!” Her guards yelled, they were only ones from the mountain they called home who would follow her on such a journey. Their confirmation seemed to abate the other dwarves who settled back in their seats and simmered down somewhat.

“Well Lady Aeducan, if this is true what has become of Prince Bhelen? We received word that Lord Harrowmount took rule of the mountain.” Lord Dain said turning his attention lazily back to the Princess.

“Bhelen is dead. He died by my hand, witnessed by the lords of the assembly. It was an honour killing.” She replied steeling her gaze toward him, the storm brewing in her eyes dared him to challenge or question her actions. 

“Aye indeed? Then it was done properly.” Lord Dain said seemingly satisfied by her answer. “I suppose King Harrowmount can confirm your version of events?” He asked and she gave a nod in response. “Then you are welcome to stay in the Iron Hills and your say in the affair of the companies quest will be counted.” He finished and she gave another nod standing to bow fully. 

“You have our thanks my Lord.” She replied softly before resuming her seat. Music and merriment ensued not long after and she leaned in close to Gorlin. “We will discuss this further at camp but I would not stay here a night if my life depended on it...” She said in hushed tones and he bowed his head in agreement. 

The camp was bustling with dwarves, some sharpened their blades, others saw to the war hounds they had managed to secure on their journeys and the rest busied themselves preparing for their journey across middle earth. Word had already reached them of the discussion with the Ironfoot clan and so they prepared to leave before first light. 

“The nerve of him... He who doesn’t even own claim to a throne!” Gorlin growled once he was sure they would not be heard by any prying ears. 

“It matters not Gorlin, there is something else that troubles me greatly.” The princess said as she ducked into the royal tent. Standing over the small makeshift table with a map of Middle Earth spread out over it, she ran a finger across it’s surface thoughtfully.

“You fear for the company?” He asked. 

“Yes... I expected nothing less from Lord Dain but we may yet be able to offer them safe passage to the lonely mountain.” She replied and he leaned back against a wooden beam folding his arms over his chest. 

“And if this Oakenshield is anything like his cousin?” He asked, his brow quirked knowingly and she laughed softly shaking her head. 

“Then we will know that we did what was right.” She replied smiling up at him. “Gorlin we knew that this was never going to be easy. We are exiles now and we may never find a home but there is one thing, in that we may take some comfort.” She began and took long steps towards him, pulling his large and calloused hands into hers. “We did not betray our king, we acted with honour.” 

“Aye... You’re right my lady.” He said offering a small smile and squeezing her hands gently. “Do we know what route the company will take?” He asked and she turned back to the map. 

“Not entirely though I suspect they will want to reach the mountain as soon as they are able. I suppose they will take the quickest route through Mirkwood...” She traced the dotted path on the map with her finger. 

“If we travel as far as Rivendell we may meet them on the way. Or do you propose we wait for them at the lonely mountain?” Gorlin questioned as he poured over the map before them. 

“No, we mustn’t wait. They number only 13 Gorlin though I suppose the wizard makes that 14, I know not much of this place but it’s not safe to undertake such a quest with numbers like that. Dwarves or no.” She replied and he nodded his agreement. “I say we send a smaller party to Rohan.” She said tapping it with her finger and wrinkling her nose thoughtfully. 

“Aye, it would be better to cover all bases.” Gorlin agreed. “I’ll send two scouts ahead tonight to see what knowledge they can gleam of the company’s location.” He added. 

“Yes, and please tell the others to rest well. They’ll need it.” She said sighing deeply and rubbing her face. He smiled affectionately back at her before leaving the tent and seeking out the scouts in question. 

Sleep came and went and the Princess lay awake in her bed roll listening to the men quietly dismantling the camp they had set up there. She knew she should get up and help but her muscles ached and cried out for a few more moments rest before the journey ahead and so she allowed herself that.

The men whispered advice and orders amongst amongst themselves and she smiled, somewhat sadly as she listened to them.  
In truth they were the finest of smiths, warriors, miners, nobles and merchants and even the finest dwarves she had ever known. When word had spread of her banishment they had exiled themselves and followed her into the deep roads to ensure her safety. They, all 87 of them, had been aware of Bhelen’s plot and when their pleas fell on death ears, they had agreed their place remained with her.  
Despite her protests they insisted on treating her as the Princess she once was, bowing low whenever she passed and insisting upon the royal tent whenever they made camp. They had taken up ranks and despite their small numbers they were a Kingdom unto themselves and she their leader. 

Some of them whispered about the journey ahead. She’d heard mention of the line of Durin and murmur of approval and agreement that they should offer their aid, which encouraged her as she sat up and began stretching out her tired limbs. 

Upon hearing her stir in the tent, Gorlin gave a quick nod to a dwarf packing away a large cauldron. 

“Fadic take her majesty some breakfast.” He said as he finished strapping his weapons belt across his chest, securing the axe sheath to his back. “Be sure to announce yourself before entering mind...” He added with a quiet chuckle and the older dwarf laughed gently back as he pulled out the plate he’d kept aside for the Princess. 

“Aye, I wouldn’t dream of it otherwise.” He replied and hobbled over to her tent. He was a short portly dwarf with a wisp of white hair and a long beard that made even Gorlin envious. It reached past his round stomach and was full and soft even when plaited. 

“My Lady Aeducan?” He called gently from the other side of the cloth. 

“Come in Fadic.” She called back quietly. 

“I have your breakfast my lady.” He said bowing low before handing her the plate and cutlery. “I’m afraid it will be quite cold now as we thought it better to put out the fire. Best not alert them to our plans just yet!” He said Jovially and she smiled up at him with a mouthful of scrambled eggs. 

“Good idea.” She replied between bites.

“When you’re finished we’ll be taking yours down.” Fadic gestured to the cloth around them. “Then I think we’re about ready to get going.” He finished and she patted the seat next to her on the bedroll. 

“How are the men’s spirits today Fadic?” She questioned balancing the plate on her lap as she turned to face him. 

“Aye they are in good spirits. Glad to be helping our kin and glad to have full bellies I should imagine.” He replied with a warm smile, thinking on how she had done right by them the moment they’d left the mountain. Securing food and mounts with what little coin she had left. They had all of them laboured in the towns of men and elves on the journey to Middle Earth and no dwarf amongst them would forget how much work she had done to allow them the comforts they secured and enjoyed. For her part she had taken on quests from the city guards, parents of lost children and even worked in taverns serving ale in order to provide. They themselves had offered their smithing services and sold weapons, jewellery and all manner of things in the towns and had acquired a small wealth amongst them which would see them through for a while yet. 

“Well I am glad to hear it Fadic.” She said after she finished her meal. He took her plate and hobbled back out to clear it and store it away.  
When she emerged the dwarves made quick work of dismantling her tent and she made her way to Gorlin who had readied her mount for the day ahead. 

“Have we been seen yet?” She asked and he shook his head as she climbed atop the dark war hound she had affectionately named Gorim. 

“And the scouts?”

“No word yet. We leave on your command my lady.” He said upon noting the dwarves were packed up and awaiting their orders.

“Ok, we will meet the scout on the way. What of the men travelling south?” She enquired. 

“They know what to do, Derjun is leading them.” He replied and she gave a short nod in approval. 

“We leave now Gorlin.” She said. 

Atop his own war hound Gorlin raised a fist, the signal to march on and she gently patted Gorim who began a slow pace into the trees.


	2. For Durin's Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Princess meets Azog the defiler!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is here! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing this part..
> 
> Chapter 3 will be up next sunday and will likely be a bit longer than this one. I will be telling this story from the perspective of the company too so there's that to look forward to next week ^_^* 
> 
> \- L

Their journey back from the Iron Hills was long and arduous but they kept themselves entertained as dwarves do, with songs and riddles and even the odd lewd anecdote thrown in, though there were a few among them who did not approve. Excitement and anticipation was felt throughout, growing stronger when their travels took them past the lonely mountain itself, they kept their distance of course.

“Just because you can’t see the dragon does not mean it isn’t there.” The Princess had warned them. 

“You speak from experience of course.” Beris, one of the mightiest warriors among them remarked. 

He was in fact referring to the incident at Haven, in which the Princess had accidentally awakened a Dragon. And while the group had heard the tales of the ferocious Grey Wardens who had defeated the mighty Dragon on the mountain, they had yet to hear it from the horses mouth and so she told her story, which kept them distracted long enough from the weary rain that had poured down that day. 

On they pushed passing through the trail in Mirkwood, undisturbed by the creatures that lurked within, for they had taken the old forest road. 

They had almost missed the dwarves and were to make their way to Rivendell but luck would have it, depending on your definition I suppose, that they arrived just in time to see the eagles carry away the leader of the company. 

The Princess recognised him immediately by the oak shield that fell to the ground, as he was carried away. The pale orc roared out in anger and she watched on realising they had the advantage, in that he wasn’t aware of their presence yet. 

“Do we fight my lady?” Fadic asked. Her nostrils flared as she stared at the pale orc and a rage grew within each of the dwarves. They had heard tale of the him, the battle of Azanilbazar and what had been done to the line of Durin that day, though they had heard the orc had not endured and yet here he was. 

“We will fight, for the sons of Durin and the honour of the dwarves. Fadic, you must fetch the shield. I would return it to it’s owner if I can.” She said and turned to her army giving a nod to the small group of archers to her right. There were 11 of them but despite their small numbers they were the best archers she had seen amongst dwarves. With their bows readied they waited and upon her signal and unleased their fury in unison. 

The orcs bellowed out in surprise, confusion and then rage when they turned to see the small army emerging from the tree front. 

“For Durin’s sons!” The princess cried out and they rode forward, swords extended and axes held high. The dwarves of Erebor heard her calls and those who could, turned back to see a band of silver and blue burst forth and consume the warg riders. The orcs met them but they stood no chance against the might and number of their foes. The sounds of metal clashing fiercely rang out over the fire burning and crackling and their battle cries echoed on the wind. 

They made quick work of them of course and turned their attention back to those who had had tried to escape into the forest to save themselves. They gave chase but the Princess held back. Riding out onto the clifftop, she met with Azog, the defiler. 

“If death is what you wish I will give it to you dwarf.” He hissed in a language she did not understand but she smiled all the same. A fierce and wild smile that marred her pretty and delicate features as she dismounted. 

The pale orc sneered down at her and she held her swords out at her side and began her approach. With a grunt the warg burst forth as did Gorim and she ducked down quickly lifting her sword to slash at the creature. It screeched out in pain and fell not far from where she was crouched. She readied herself quickly and the pale orc growled as he rose from the ground. Gorim growled viciously and stalked around the Warg as he sniffed the air. 

The Princess paid him no mind focusing only on the Orc while her warhound tore at the Warg’s throat as it lay there unable to fight back. 

“You’re a big fella aren’t you.” She breathed and he roared and broke into a run swinging his battle mace in earnest. She tried to duck again but this time he was prepared and though he missed her with his mace he found his target with his booted foot into her gut. Thrown to the ground her head cracked on an upturned tree root and she gasped for air as her body curled into a ball.

Gorim, sensible as he was knew that this was a fight he would not win and took off into the forest to find the others.

Azog laughed cruelly and circled her as she writhed in pain and tried to catch her breath. 

“Death it is then.” He snarled. 

She used his amusement to her advantage however and gathered her strength and in one swift movement she slashed her sword through the air slicing into his thigh, drawing out thick black ooze. He cried out in pain as he fell back, losing his mace in the fall and she stumbled to her feet, holding her arm over her abdomen, drawing in shaking breaths. 

“For Thorin..” She whispered and pulled her sword back past her shoulder, using gravity to aid in her descent but Azog was too quick and kicked out at her, once again sending her sprawling into the dirt. Pain ripped through her from what she suspected were broken ribs but still she tried to get up. He limped toward her, his mace returned to him and stood over her readying himself for the killing blow until he heard yells from behind. The dwarves were returning. He growled down at her before turning back to his warg. It was no use, the creature was dying and so he turned and ran in amongst the trees. 

The princess tried to call out to the dwarves, to warn them of his escape but darkness soon had her in it’s grips and she fell into a deep sleep. 

“No...” Gorlin breathed when he saw the limp figure laying on the ground. Her war hound at his side suddenly ran out into the clearing skidding to a halt when he reached her and Gorlin followed along with the army of dwarves. Gorim nudged at her but nothing happened and he began to whine pitifully as he curled himself up beside her. 

“Let me through!” A woman called out, her name was Raga and she wasn’t exactly the designated healer of the lot, she was however better then their official healer who had gotten far too big for his boots in her opinion. 

She knelt down beside the princess and felt her stomach churn at the sight of her, bloodied, hair matted and pale as snow. Leaning in close she listened for any signs of life and let out a breath of relief when she saw the young woman’s chest rise a little and felt a weak breath on her ear. “She’s alive Gorlin, but not for long. We must take her somewhere safe.” Raga ordered and Gorlin swallowed thickly before turning back to the dwarves. 

“We will carry her, bring the board and put some cushions on it. Fadic, we need blankets and bandages now.” Turning back to Raga he crouched down beside her and took the Princesses hand in his own pressing his forehead to the back of it. “Do you have time to see to her injuries before we travel?” He asked. 

“Yes, I can stop the bleeding now and I think it best we bandage her up before we move her.” She replied and turned when Fadic returned with the healers items. 

“You stay with me my lady.” Gorlin said quietly before he stood to give Raga room to work. 

The next morning came and they were on their way, Gorlin had insisted that he stay with the Princess but Raga had rather sternly reminded him that they needed a leader and now more than ever. And so he rode at the front looking back occasionally to watch over the cart they had laid her in. Dwarves you see were very resilient and had been able to fix up a wooden trolley of sorts that had been filled with blankets and cushions and enough space for Raga to ride too. 

They all of them tried to keep their spirits up but none could allow themselves to enjoy the scenery around them. The sun was warm that day and the grass, soft and bright green. A gentle breeze blew through the air and Gorlin pushed the worst of thoughts to the very back of his mind. 

“May I ask where we are going to?” Fadic asked as he rode up next to Gorlin. 

“I do not know, when we travelled from the lonely mountain I noticed a house. They may help us if we offer them coin.” He replied. 

“And if they don’t help us?” Fadic asked in return. 

“I fear this is our only choice. The orcs will want revenge and I imagine they will not be far behind. We were lucky not to have lost anyone on that cliff but I fear another battle may be the end of us.” He replied and Fadic regarded him solemnly.


	3. The House in the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili is convinced he saw dwarves fighting on the clifftop and our dear princess is quite injured but not beyond aid...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! As always leave a comment and let me know what you think so far!

Craning his neck round, Fili saw the dwarves emerge from the tree line. A flood that burst forth and swarmed the remaining orcs and despite his confusion he cried out happily. That was until he remembered his dear uncle and as the clifftop shrunk in the distance he turned his attention back to Thorin who was carried away, limp in the Eagle’s claw. 

Gandalf was the first at his side and they all clambered around him heaving a sigh of relief in unison, when Thorin breathed at last and opened his eyes.

Fili couldn’t help but feel his anger rise when his uncle turned on the hobbit. He hadn’t been so useless after all and he had thought Thorin’s words harsh and unnecessary. He was of course relieved, as were they all, when Thorin embraced the hobbit. 

And then his attention was turned to the distance. They all them fell silent as their gaze fell upon the lonely mountain. Fili had never been there, having been born in the blue mountains, but nonetheless he felt the pull to home as strong as any of the dwarves there. 

It was a solitary peak that stood alone amongst the mist and he thought it didn’t look very menacing from afar. His thoughts drifted to that of the dragon, Smaug. He wondered if it truly had left the mountain as others had claimed. And just for a moment he let his mind wonder onto happier things. The vast halls of Erebor lit by candle light and that of the gems and crystals the dwarves of old had mined there. His family, in their rightful place as rulers of Erebor and his dear mother, Dis, adorned with the finest silks and jewels, as she deserved.   
Voices from behind him drew him from his thoughts and he turned to find them gathering themselves, meaning to press on. And he saw his window of opportunity slipping, so he caught up to Thorin quickly. 

“Uncle there were dwarves. Back on the cliff.” Fili said excitedly.

“Dwarves? Are you sure?” Thorin asked doubtfully. 

“Yes I saw them, they were fighting off the orcs!” He replied loudly and the company murmured their doubts amongst themselves. Fili rolled his eyes then looked to his Uncle once more. “I’m telling you that I saw them.” 

“Perhaps it’s Dain! Maybe they’ve changed their minds?” Kili questioned coming to stand by his brother. 

“Oh I doubt that.” Thorin said in a low voice as he turned to look back to the way they had come. 

“Well whoever it was we are eternally grateful, however Thorin we must be on our way.” Gandalf said.

“Aye. We’ve much ground to cover, perhaps we will see them again.” Thorin replied and they continued on their journey. 

• 

The dwarves of Orzammar arrived at the house around midday and were greeted by a strange and tall fellow carrying a staff. He looked frazzled and concerned to see them and so they held back while Gorlin approached.

“Are you the master of this house?” He enquired. 

“I am not. He’s just inside though, I fear he will not be very welcoming, why have you come here?” He asked. 

“We are on a quest to aid our kin in these lands. Though our leader.. Our princess, has been injured. We would ask for a bed to aid in her recovery.” Gorlin replied tensely. 

“Indeed? May I see her? I may be able to help.” The man asked and Gorlin looked back at the crowd of Dwarves standing protectively around her. 

He turned back to the man and regarded him for a moment. “You are a wizard? A healer perhaps?” He asked and the man nodded in response. “Very well then.” And they began walking toward the tree line. “Raga, our healer, she has done her best though I fear the damage is too great even for her.” He said. 

“Well I hope that I can be of some assistance master dwarf.” The man replied looking warily on. 

“Gorlin. My name is Gorlin.” He said. 

“And I am Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey.” He replied with a soft smile causing Gorlin to slow his pace slightly. Frowning he watched the man from the corner of his eye. He had heard that name, but was unsure of where and why it felt so important to him. 

“Let us through!” Gorlin called as they reached the others and they parted cautiously.

Once he reached the Princess, Gandalf ran his hand over her, assessing the damage. “How did this happen?” He demanded turning to Gorlin whose stature became defensive at the wizard’s tone. 

“Orcs at the mountain. We thought we’d lost her in the battle but she stayed.” He hesitated for a moment looking down to his feet shamefully. “She stayed to fight Azog, the defiler.” He finished and Gandalf drew in a deep breath, turning back to her. 

“Ah so it was you! You have our thanks.” Gandalf said sincerely. “Well, fear not. She is not beyond repair but I agree, a soft bed and a warm fire will be necessary.” He said. “Wait here. I will enquire with our host.” He added and hurried back into the house. 

“What was that?” Raga asked as Gorlin helped her down from the cart. 

“What was what Raga?” He asked tiredly. 

“You. I’ve never seen a man look so guilty not even my last husband.” She joked and he grunted out a short laugh.

“I can’t help but feel that I am to blame.” He replied gruffly and Raga sighed and glared up at him. 

“Of course you’re not.” She said. 

“I should have made sure she was with us.” He replied. 

“Gorlin, even if you had been there do you think anything would have been different? She’s as stubborn as they come and she wouldn’t have backed down and then you would have both been injured or worse.” She said and rubbed his arm reassuringly. 

“She is stubborn I’ll give you that.” He replied and looked down into the cart sadly at her resting form. “She’s still so pale.”

“Well she’s always been pale so it only looks worse now. You heard the man, she’ll be alright.” Raga replied. 

“Said his name was Gandalf.” Gorlin said. 

“The wizard?” She asked and he nodded. “The wizard travelling with the company?” She added and his eyes widened as the gears in his   
head suddenly clicked into place. 

“Of course! How could I forget?” He sighed and she chuckled and nudged his shoulder with hers. 

“Well you are getting on dear.” She replied and he scowled at that. 

Shortly after Gandalf emerged from the house followed by a tall dwarf with long black and white hair that fell in curls over his shoulders and back. They all thought him rather regal looking. 

“I have discussed the matter at hand with our host and he will help the Princess but you cannot all come inside. Perhaps yourself and your healer?” He suggested to Gorlin who gave a short nod before turning back to the dwarves. 

“Set up camp here and be quiet about it. We do not want to anger our host.” He said and they all set about their business while he turned back and began guiding the war hounds through the tall gates. 

Thorin walked behind them trying to catch a glimpse of the Princess. He had heard of the dwarves from the East, but since Erebor was lost no one of the line of Durin had made contact with them. Dwarf princesses were also particularly rare and so he couldn’t help his curiosity. Gandalf had assured him that when the time was right they would speak with Gorlin to find out what they’re quest was, but for now he was abated. 

“Beorn! This is Raga and Gorlin and of course, the Princess.” Gandalf said in an overtly friendly manner that made Gorlin smile, though the smile left his face when he laid eyes on the giant who looked positively feral.

“Take her inside. I would like to see her for myself.” Beorn replied dismissively. “I will see to your hounds.” He added turning to Gorlin and Raga and they all of them worked together to carry her inside. As they walked through the barn they passed a line of dwarves on each side, the company, Gorlin reasoned, who all looked astonished as they laid eyes on the woman they carried. 

“I told you I saw them.” He heard one of them mumble. 

After a short while they had her tucked up in bed and Gandalf sat beside her casting healing magic over her. 

“It will not heal her completely but it’ll do the trick.” He explained softly to Raga who watched on in anticipation.


End file.
